


When He's Away

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: The Chevalier and Liselotte are allies of a sort, united in missing Philippe.





	When He's Away

The baby moving inside her woke Liselotte in the dead of night and she ran her hands over her pregnancy bump, feeling every movement beneath her skin. She let out an exhausted sigh and then looked around the empty room. She wished Philippe could have been there with her to feel the baby’s mighty kicks- perhaps a baby to grow up destined to be a warrior, following in his father’s footsteps on the battlefield- but alas not. Philippe, of course was still at war whilst she remained, waited, and grew bigger with each passing week. 

She couldn’t sleep and was so uncomfortable caught up in her bed sheets that she decided to take a walk around the palace. She passed the salons which were empty of life like a village cemetery after dark. There was however one solitary figure sitting forlornly at one of the tables, his fingers caressing the playing cards in front of him. She’d witnessed this very scene before, on the day she’d attempted a truce with him- the Chevalier de Lorraine, and though they were not firm friends and likely never would be, they were operating on a new understanding, allies of a sort- both favourites to their Philippe, the Duc d’Orleans. 

Liselotte sat across from the Chevalier but as before his head remained low and unmoving. She reasoned that he knew exactly who it was without even having to glance.

“Spying?” the Chevalier finally said with a whisper, his head still low.

“You honestly think I have nothing better to do than to spy on you? I should be asleep but this baby inside me doesn’t care about that. God knows I love him but if he wriggles one more time he’s going to get a stern telling off.”

The Chevalier found himself smiling, imagining the new child of Philippe. He pictured the grown-up version as being war-like, handsome and regal like his father. The Chevalier knew Liselotte and Philippe had their own kind of unique bond and that when the child was born, it would only grow stronger.

“So, why are you awake?” Liselotte asked, glancing at him as he finally looked up at her.

“One often drinks too much wine and then inevitably suffers for it.”

Liselotte took in his words. “I suppose you miss my husband?”

The Chevalier’s eyes watered momentarily before he flicked his hair across his shoulder and composed his posture. “Yes. Don’t you?”

“I do.”

“He is never far from my thoughts, but I have faith he will come back to me.”

“You don’t look so sure, pouting like that. You look like a horse with that long face.” She chuckled.

“With a mane that couldn’t be shinier,” the Chevalier retorted, “some of us take pride in our appearance.” 

Liselotte smiled, rarely offended by his insults. “So, you do have fight still in you and here was me thinking the man who rid the palace of an evil spy had deflated somewhat?”

“Preposterous, I’ve not changed. Philippe shall return and everything shall continue as it was, I have no doubt.”

“So why do you act as though you’re mourning him?”

The Chevalier felt Liselotte’s eyes boring into him and he could barely look in her direction. He was rarely shy but her interrogating attitude suddenly made him feel vulnerable. 

“I miss my love, that’s all. Without him something is missing,” the Chevalier said quickly.

Liselotte grabbed his hand, she knew how this felt. He shook her away, afraid of the gesture.

She folded her arms. “Well, why don’t you think of the good times? I often find writing down my thoughts and feelings help me to remember. The bad times too but especially the jolly ones, don’t you agree? Versailles is full of stories to tell, quite the palace of various…activity.” She snorted. 

The Chevalier thought for a moment and he could see Liselotte talking in his line of vision but her words did not reach his ears instead they faded away and were replaced with a memory of Philippe filling his mind. 

…

The years filtered away in the memory, days long since forgotten bubbling to the surface until the Chevalier could see the younger face of his beloved in full majesty. He himself was younger too, fresh-faced and full of energy, the two of them wrestling in the deserted forest, their bodies intertwined as they rolled over and over each other through the mud.

Philippe pinned him down. “Got you again.”

The Chevalier didn’t want to tell him that every so often he let him win and besides he was so excited he could barely breathe. He reached forward and pulled a twig from Philippe’s hair. “I surrender to you of course.”

Philippe’s lips curled into a smile. “Of course. You are now at my command, what shall I command of you?”

“A kiss could be a good start.”

Philippe took no hesitation and slowly placed his soft lips gently upon the Chevalier’s. As usual he enjoyed and savoured every moment until at last they broke apart and Philippe rolled off him so they were both laying side by side in the mud.

The Chevalier laughed. “I thought you were commanding me but the kiss was my wish.”

“It was a mutual longing.”

The Chevalier rolled onto his side and shuffled closer to his love, resting his head on Philippe’s chest. “Do we have to go back?”

“Why, what did you have in mind?”

“We live here in the woods just we two.”

Philippe’s smile widened. “The idea of you living the life of a woodsman with no creature comforts is frankly laughable.”

“You do not trust my survivor instincts?”

“No, I do not. If you were left here alone the wolves would have quite a feast upon them.”

“Who said alone when you will be here to protect me?” The Chevalier smiled, looked at Philippe and then sighed. “Ah, I suppose you’re right, we all have our place and ours is not here. Though an odd scuffle amongst the foliage is a good release from time to time.”  
…

Liselotte could see how deeply the Chevalier had become lost in one particular memory and felt a pang of jealousy that the two had so many times together that they could look back on. She was still fairly new in Philippe’s life and there had been a rocky start. She knew he could never build the same kind of memories with her as the one’s he shared with the Chevalier but she somehow hoped that the ones they did build would at least be happy ones. 

The Chevalier finally broke free of the trance and forgot where he was for a moment, surprised to see Liselotte still sitting there. Why was she so intent on finding a common ground?

“So, what did you imagine?” she asked. 

The Chevalier held her gaze but could never tell her of his and Philippe’s most intimate moments. “Oh, this and that.”

And with that memory, it suddenly merged into another, this time they were older.  
…

In the quiet of the bedroom after the raucous of another Versailles party, the Chevalier and Philippe were still awake, still drunk and still eager to celebrate even if the celebration had moved onto a rather more intimate occasion. Philippe laughed as he leapt onto the table and paraded up and down it, consumed by drink, any inhibitions swept away by the tide of red wine. The Chevalier climbed up beside him and pursed his lips together and blew to emulate the sound of an instrument. 

“Introducing, his royal highness, the new king!” The Chevalier slurred his words. “The new new king of Versailles.”

Philippe sniggered and held his finger over the Chevalier’s lips. “We mustn’t. No, no, we mustn’t be treasonous. I would not want your pretty head removed from your divine body.”

“Quite right. I’m rather attached to my head and besides I now proclaim myself the Queen of France. I forbid such things as public executions unless the accused is grotesquely ugly then they deserve it.”

Philippe laughed again and then placed a finger on his own lips. He nearly tumbled off the table when he attempted to move. “No, we mustn’t.”

“Alright,” the Chevalier said, pushing past him, “I shall be the king then. What will my first duty be?”

“Stop it. You’re not the king!” Philippe hiccupped his reply. “Neither of us are kings, we are the Chevalier d’Orleans and the Duc de Lorraine.”

The Chevalier snorted. “You’re backwards or your words are forwards, either way you are rather…what’s the word?”

“Delicious?”

The Chevalier bit the air, hungrily like a wolf and Philippe pulled him closer for a cuddle but the vigorous shaking of him resulted in the contents of the Chevalier’s dinner spilling out of his mouth and onto Philippe’s new shoes. 

Philippe pulled away, strong and firm as though he wasn’t drunk at all. “My shoes!”

…

“What are you thinking now?” Liselotte asked again, hoping for a response once more as the Chevalier came back to reality from his second memory. 

The Chevalier smiled, knowing his memories with Philippe were sacred no matter how awry things went sometimes, they were theirs and theirs alone. 

He looked at Liselotte, unsure of how to speak. “Thank you,” he allowed himself to say. “Your advice was not entirely un-helpful.”

Liselotte smirked. “Glad I could be of some use.” 

She felt a sudden pain surge through her body and she doubled over, breathing heavily.

The Chevalier shot to his feet. “Shall I send for a Doctor?” There was urgency in his voice.

Liselotte slumped and took a deep breath and then relaxed. “No, no, think he’s settling, that’s all. Wants to remind me he’s here. Would you like to feel?”

The Chevalier looked surprised. “Feel your…belly?”

“The child within it. He’s quite active these days and my husband isn’t here to share it with me.” She grabbed the Chevalier’s hand and without any warning she placed it gently onto her bump. 

Immediately they could feel movement and signs of kicking. The Chevalier’s serious face managed to smile ever so softly. “You’re right he’s quite the wriggler. I suppose he’s eager to see the world. And the heart of it here at Versailles.”

“He’s in for an experience that’s for certain. That is if he’s even a he.”

The Chevalier took his hand away. “Oh, most definitely a boy. He’ll be the image of his father, I’m sure.”

He was about to continue talking but realised he was saying too much. He instead glanced out of the window, trying to distract himself. “Oh, look a new day is dawning.”


End file.
